The Duel
by TolkienScribe
Summary: Sequel to 'The Hunt'. Warriors and Rangers of Mirkwood always kept an enjoyable rivalry between them. And there was no other way to keep the brotherhood close than by fighting... and what other way than issuing the Duel? Please read and review. :)
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer: **Do not own LOTR.

**This is not romance and is not to be taken as such. Please respect this viewpoint.**

This is actually a treat for my old readers who stuck with me throughout my writing and gave me continuous support. :)

**Important:** In order to understand the story, please read the prequel, "The Hunt" found in my profile.

Flames and any kind of abuse is not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome. :)

Enjoy!

**~S~**

Prologue:

"… _Now there are two particular customs that the elves belong to the Elven Army of Eryn Lasgelen enjoy. The first was the Hunt, initiated by the Rangers to challenge the Warriors. The second is the Duel that is initiated by the Warriors in challenge to the Rangers. The Hunt was discussed in the previous chapter, for readers to refer to._

_Now, to refresh our memory, there are two elite forces present in the Elven Army of Eryn Lasgelen. The first is the Warriors, who prefer strict protocol and an honest battle in the front lines. Their weaponry are swords and their defense is their armor. _

_The other force is the Rangers. Their weaponry was dual knives and bows and their defense was stealth. They preferred cloaks and battle in silence and poisoned tips of arrows._

_In the royal family of Eryn Lasgelen, Oropher and Thranduil were Warriors while Legolas Greenleaf (whom we know to be one of the Nine Walkers of the Fellowship of the Ring) was a Ranger. _

_There was something of a friendly rivalry in between the Warriors and Rangers. The two elite forces were different in many ways, from their ways of training all the way to their traditions and culture. The two customs of the Hunt and the Duel was a way not only to test their skills against one another, but also to develop their differences into something of a similarity."- The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

If you have read the Hunt, you would have guessed this style. I adopted this style of commentary in respect to Tolkien's style of documentary through notable heads like Elfwine, son of Eomer or such. Barahir is the grandson of Faramir but no one really knows if he is the son or nephew of Elboron, depending on whether Elboron has siblings or not. Here, Barahir is the son of Elboron.

Also, this is slightly more bookish than movie-ish. So no, Tauriel will not be here since A) It goes against the style of Tolkien (sorry, I like PJ's movies, but some things I cannot agree with, frankly) and B) When I made my world of Mirkwood, PJ's movies had not been announced yet, lol.

Also, it is technically not non-canon, since we know very little of Mirkwood. So the idea of Rangers and Warriors exist in my world and belong to me.

Do leave a review.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

My plotline here is somewhat different. The Hunt started immediately from the first chapter. But this will be slightly longer, like one more chapter, I guess.

Enjoy! :)

**~S~**

Chapter 1

"_The Duel was different than the Hunt. The Hunt dealt in stealth of the Rangers and the tracking skills of the Warriors. The Duel, on the other hand, consisted of head-to-head combat, where all sorts of fighting was to take place within the strict rules and regulations as set down by the Warriors. It took place right inside Thranduil's Halls, instead of out in the woods. A leveled ground and vast area was the field of Warriors while the dense trees and the bumpy forest floor was the Rangers' territory."- The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

"You are joking." He told his friend, looking him in the eye. But the serious face betrayed nothing. "You are 'not' joking." He muttered.

"I apologize, Legolas." The elf said to him. "But your father was insistent-"

"Dorián, we have been stuck in the Halls for two weeks! I need air, Dorián!"

"Well, you do have it. Your father's Halls permits air inside." Dorián replied seriously, his voice trembling just a little to betray his humor. The elf gestured at the corridor they were standing in, lit with many lanterns and skylights etched into the high walls of the corridor to allow air inside.

Legolas narrowed his eyes at him, and Dorián burst out laughing.

"Come, come, my old friend-"

"I am not old!"

"Legolas, it is only two more weeks before you go out into the forest again. Enjoy the time while you still can!"

"Enjoy it how? My father has numerous sessions lined for me in the company of the emissaries for Lake-Town. Do you _know _what it will be like? Ai, Dorián, the agony and the pain-"

"If you want to know the agony and the pain, then you should have taken my place in the dungeons of Dul Guldur." Dorián remarked. "Come now, I doubt it will be that bad!"

"Take a session in my place and I will like to hear your views after you come out of the council rooms."

Dorián laughed and squeezed Legolas' shoulder sympathetically. "Look at it this way; you would have a lot of time to rest while in the meetings."

"I do not." Legolas replied. "Father has placed his head advisor Thorontur with me. He is old and his nose is like that of a hawk's beak. He is going to keep a sharp eye on me."

Dorián burst out laughing.

"Go ahead! Laugh while you still can!" Legolas snarled at his friend. "Just wait till we are back in the forest. I am going to abandon you in a spider's nest, and then we will see who is laughing."

Dorián pushed back his heavy black locks from his face with one hand, his eyes twinkling in merriment and showing no signs of remorse. "Perhaps, but I am still going to laugh right now, Legolas."

Legolas growled and muttered something under his breath. Dorián chuckled once more.

"I see you have resorted to using one of the many oaths the men of Lake-Town are fond of." Dorián said pleasantly.

"Is my son cursing like a common Man?" They heard an authoritative voices ask behind him. Legolas paled and turned around.

Standing tall and proud was Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. His silver and green robes were long, touching the floor. He was wearing his woodland crown, with one hand resting on the hilt of his sword and the other clutching his oaken staff. His face was pleasant to look upon, but at the time it was twisted in an ugly frown of displeasure. Legolas bowed low, Dorián following him in the gesture.

"My king," Legolas said formally.

"I see my nuisance of a son has dropped so low as to curse like one of the filthy Men living in the taverns of Lake-Town." He said, his stern voice echoing in the corridor. Legolas knew Dorián was holding his breath. Legolas did not rise from his bent position.

"I am sorry to be a disappointment, father."

"I did not give you the permission to speak to me so familiarly."

"I apologize, father." Legolas said and only then did he dare to raise his eyes to meet Thradnuil's. The King stood quite stiffly, his eyebrows close in a frown. The two held their gaze for a while, wondering which one will be the first to laugh at their ridiculous game.

"Can I rise now?" Legolas asked, finally talking in his usual tone. "My back stiffens in this position."

Thranduil laughed, his angry charade dissolving. "Get up, lad! I did not ask either of you to bow down to me. You know that I do not like it, especially from you two. You make me feel old."

"You are old," the elf standing behind him muttered. He stood with his hands clasped behind him, lingering unobtrusively with his dark hair combed and hanging on either side of his face like a curtain.

"That would make you older, Thorontur." Thranduil said, waving his hand dismissively. "Let us not forget that you were here advising my father before me."

"Ah, yes. I have gathered much experience in all my years of service. And I have noticed that the line of Oropher is quite stubborn in some of their traits that seem to have passed from father to son." The advisor replied evenly. Thorontur smiled a little when Thranduil tilted his head back to meet his gaze. Thorontur had a very dry personality, making him amongst the few hardest to work with. But he was loyal and developed a friendship with Thranduil through work.

"I have a feeling I do not want to know an example."

"I can give many examples if you like."

"Oh, do keep them to yourself."

"Come now, I am sure there are some that will interest you. For example-"

"They do not notice us," Dorián hissed. "Come! Let us make a run before they call you to the meeting."

"And another example is that you and your grandfather did not enjoy official meetings with distant emissaries. Something, I believe, has been passed down to your son." Thorontur drawled, glancing pointedly to Legolas who had just taken a step back to retreat. He flushed when the advisor's knowing gaze fell on him.

"Speaking of the meetings," Thranduil said suddenly, as if the thought just occurred to him. "You should be on your way down to the council rooms right now, Legolas. The emissaries will be waiting for you."

Legolas threw a pleading glance at his father. "Father, must I? You know as well as I do that those emissaries will talk for hours on end on nothing-"

"If they were talking on nothing, they would not be talking at all. In fact, talking is always talking about something." Thorontur interrupted, his voice annoyingly reasonable.

"While Thorontur is quite right," Thranduil said, sounding amused as he glanced at his advisor. Eyes closed and hands behind his back, Thorontur nodded once at the mention of his name. "I am afraid you must go down and speak with them, my son."

"But what did I do to deserve this?"

Thranduil was about to reply, but Thorontur managed to reply first. "Your foolishness in arousing many of the spiders on the Eastern side of Mirkwood that led to a two-day assault." Thorontur deadpanned.

Dorián snorted. "He has got you there, Legolas."

"But that was an accident! And we defeated the spiders and I did not lose a single Ranger!"

"But it is evident that you need some time away from excitement to cool you down." Thorontur answered.

"The real truth is that you do not like me at all." Legolas muttered under his breath.

"You sound like a spoiled elfling who refuses to put up with reason." Thranduil told his son fondly and with a smile.

"I am not an elfling!"

"Well, you certainly do not agree you are old-"

"I am 'not' old!"

"Well then, what are you?" Dorián put in.

"I am a Ranger." Legolas growled. "And Rangers are supposed to be out in the forest minding their duties!"

"You are also a prince." Thranduil added, gently but firmly. "I need you here to help me with the emissaries."

"So stop sulking and come with me." Thorontur finished. Legolas looked mutinous but when he met his father's steady gaze, he knew he would not win. Sighing, Legolas relented.

"Fine," he said, defeated. "I am going."

"Well, I have given Legolas company while he waited. I will be going now." Dorián said, turning on his heel. Thranduil's voice stopped him.

"Not so fast," the King said. "I have something else planned for you."

Legolas choked back what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Me, Sire?" Dorián asked feebly.

"Aye, Dorián. I recall some of the ladies wanting to perfect their skills in archery. I promised them to learn from someone amongst the best. So, you would do well to see to their practice."

Dorián looked as if he was told to face a wraith. Legolas on the other hand, looked as if he was told

"But sire," Dorián said with difficulty. "Legolas is a better archer than I." Legolas turned his blue eyes towards his childhood friend, hinting danger.

"Ah, but he is busy with the meetings I have kept up for him. You would do well to take his place." Thranduil stepped forward. Dorián shrank back instinctively as the King towered over him, his smile friendly and unthreatening to any who did not know him. "I… trust it will not be a problem?"

"Nay, my lord." Dorián muttered.

"Good," Thranduil's voice carried an unveiled satisfaction. Thranduil stepped back and some of his magnificence faltered. He turned to his son, whose smile immediately disappeared. Thranduil's lips now slowly curled in something of a sadistic amusement.

"My son, I believe your meetings are in line by now."

"Yes, father." Legolas said meekly.

"There will no incidents, I trust?"

"Nay, father."

"Good, lad." Thranduil pulled his son in a powerful hug and then let him go. Legolas was giving him a weak smile. "Of you go. You are needed now. Thorontur, keep an eye on him, would you? And see if he requires any… assistance."

"Aye, my lord." Thorontur said, a grin on his normally seriously face.

oOo

He was going to _kill _Dorián, Legolas fumed inwardly.

He heard the emissary drone endlessly about something Legolas had lost interest in two hours ago. Beside him, two guards fought to keep their composure as Legolas slid further down his seat.

"Careful," Thorontur murmured, his lips barely moving. "You seem to be lacking attention."

"I wonder why." Legolas muttered back, sliding down further in his seat. He cast a warning glance at the guards behind him; he did not want to get into trouble of not listening to the emissary. The two guards immediately looked on gravely.

"If you do not pay attention, prince, I will have to tell your father about this. And that would mean unfortunate increase of meetings."

Legolas immediately shot straight up in his chair and laced his fingers on his lap. There was a soft chuckle beside him where Thorontur stood.

"That is much better."

oOo

When he came out, it was evening and he saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall with crossed arms and one foot resting on the wall.

"Dorián, I am going to kill you slowly and painfully." Legolas hissed through his teeth. Dorián laughed and straightened from the wall.

"Was that really so bad?" Dorián asked, easily coming in step with Legolas.

Legolas did not reply.

"Ah, you will keep your silence to agonize me." Dorián said, eyes gleaming as he looked over at his friend.

Legolas did not speak and continued to walk. Dorián chuckled and followed him, hands clasped behind his back and his heavy locks swinging as he kept up with Legolas.

"You cannot blame me for laughing at you, Legolas."

Silence.

"Does that mean I can say anything while you are silent?"

Silence. Dorián smirked.

"Legolas-"

"I hate you." Legolas muttered him. Dorián grinned and threw his arm around Legolas' shoulder.

"Keep your heavy arm off me!"

"You cannot mean that!"

"I mean it, Dorián!"

The two Rangers left Thranduil's Halls and entered the courtyard, where there was a flurry of activity. Elves practiced their skills in weaponry in the practicing rings. There was a chatter around them.

"Dorián-" Legolas said warningly.

Dorián grinned and kept a tight grip of Legolas' shoulder.

"I made a mistake of making friends with you." Legolas told him, walking towards the Rangers' headquarters.

"Are you sure?"

"Just wait, Dorián, just wait. I am sure I can get you into something troublesome. I am so sure of it."

Dorián glanced at his friend and his smile faded as he saw the determined look on his face. Silence fell on them.

"Legolas, you wouldn't."

Legolas gave a slow smile.

"I would."

Dorián swallowed. "Come now, my friend, it is not my fault that you are a prince."

Legolas smirked, his grin the first of the day. He pushed open the doors of their headquarters. One of the Rangers looked up as the pair entered and called out to the rest of the Rangers.

"He is alive!"

"Of course, I am alive!" Legolas snapped, causing laughter around him. "I am going to get you all for this."

Rangers started to pour out of different doors when they heard the sound of their prince and Ranger.

"Come now, what have we done to cause your ire?" One of the Rangers asked.

"That little bet-"

"You lost that bet." Dorián reminded him. "And now you are paying the price."

Legolas glared at his friend and then flitted his eyes towards the Rangers surrounding him. All of them were grinning.

"I cannot believe I actually joined you lot as a Ranger."

"Well, such mistakes make you pay for life," Dorián said briskly. "Now, you still have two more weeks to go. this time we want you to-"

His words were interrupted when the door behind them opened and another Ranger stepped in. he threw back his hood, black hair tumbling down his shoulders and a notable silver feather hanging from his braid. The newcomer growled good-naturally, "Make way, make way, you lazy lot. You are barricading the door with your bodies. Move, I say!"

"Head Commander Hanon!" A cry went up.

"Do not call me that!" Hanon said, unhooking his dual knives from the belt holding his quiver and bow. Then he unbuckled the quiver's belt, setting his weaponry on a desk. He frowned at the crowd of Rangers standing in front of him.

"You know, we do have more rooms than this one," Hanon said at last. "You are crowding the main room."

"They are doing it because of me." Legolas spoke up. Hanon did not spot him at first until Legolas raised up his hand to get his attention.

"Ah," Hanon said, understanding. "Did you lose another bet?"

There was scattered laughter among the Rangers at that. Legolas scowled, his bad mood returning.

"That is it." He said finally. "I am done with your laughter and constant jests. I am still your prince. Get back to work, the lot of you. Go on! GET!"

Legolas roared the last word, causing the Rangers to scatter. He heard louder laughter this time. He narrowed his eyes at Dorián who thought to linger. His friend raised his hands in surrender, and grinning, he left.

Hanon's soft chuckle brought him back to reality.

"What was the bet this time?" The Head Commander asked, beckoning the prince to follow him. they both turned to one of the many doors. They met with a set of stairs which they climbed.

"Never mind that," Legolas said. "How did you patrol went?"

"The orcs are flighty." Hanon told him. "They have no one to lead them, and it makes our patrol easy. But we must keep the peace and we must still be wary."

"You need a bath," Legolas told him, wrinkling his nose as he followed the elf till they reached the higher floor. Hanon only laughed.

"I apologize. We had to go through the marshes on our way back."

"That is why you need a bath."

"Careful, prince. You forget that I am still your elder."

"An elder who admits he is old." Legolas finished. Hanon opened a door to his private room, glancing over his shoulder. "You really have become impudent," Hanon said, an upward turn of his lips betraying his amusement.

"So what happened with the bet?" Hanon asked, checking the wick of the lamp resting on his desk and then lighting it. Legolas, on the other hand, gathered his cloak around himself.

"It is cold here."

"They did not know I was coming so soon." Hanon said, reaching for his cabinet and pulling out a bottle.

"So that is where your secret store is." Legolas said, grinning. "My father was wondering where it was."

"Do not tell the king!" Hanon said hastily, who knew full well Thranduil's love for wine. "He has been after my stores for many years."

"What would you do to have my silence?"

He poured out a cup and offered it to Legolas, who grinned and accepted it.

"You have my silence." Legolas said.

"Now, the bet-" Hanon prodded. Legolas grimaced and set down his cup.

"It was two weeks ago," Legolas told him." It was a night patrol and it was horribly uneventful. We had decided to make a bet."

"And-"

"Hanon, please-"

"They wanted me to jump into a nest of spiders with nothing but tinderbox and a small knife that was the length of hand."

Hanon choked and coughed, setting down his cup.

"Legolas!"

"I know, I know, do not tell my father."

"Your father will have my head!" Hanon told him. While Thranduil was quite lose as to how many times Legolas had put himself in line of danger, he always drew a line at his son's foolishness.

"He will have mine before yours." Legolas consoled him.

"A nest of spiders, Legolas. With only a tinderbox and a small knife… what on Arda did you do?"

"I set fire to the nest." Legolas replied. Hanon looked confused.

"Then how did you lose?"

"The fire was not supposed to spread to the surrounding trees." Leoglas said, grimacing. "But it did. It is in the reports," Legolas added. "But we did not put why there was a fire in the first place. I do not think father deserved to know why."

"He does not." Hanon muttered. "He will have my head, mark my words. And then your mother, should I return to Valinor. Does Fion know of this?"

This time, Legolas shuddered violently. His former mentor, Fion, would be livid if he found out.

"Nay, he does not know. It is a good thing he is on patrol."

"It is indeed, what happened now that you lost."

"Four weeks of utter misery," Legolas groaned, pouring out his misery to Hanon. The Head Commander had raised up his cup again. "Two weeks have passed and I am not allowed to leave my rooms save for the council rooms or the throne room. I am not allowed to practice my weaponry wherever I am. I must take part in every single meeting and also I am the one who has to read through all the reports and summarize them. Hanon, the agony and the pain-"

Hanon, though sympathetic, let out a chuckle. "They knew how to take advantage of your loss this time, Legolas. I have to hand it to them. How long do you still have to go?"

"Two more weeks." Legolas told him gloomily. Hanon burst out laughing.

"You are all insane," Hanon said when his laughter subsided. "Then again, we Rangers are known for our queer ways. Do not do anything like this again. I do not know how I will explain it to Thranduil if you end up poisoned or burned alive. A scratch or a burn in battle is different than pulling ridiculous acts like you do."

"I just want to do something exciting if I have to survive two more weeks here in the Halls."

Hanon put down his cup, eyes gleaming in the lamplight.

"I have a few things in mind." Hanon said, grinning.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Tell me what you think. :)

Those who have read my stories would recognize Dorian, Thorontur, Fion in my stories. Hanon appears in 'Green Leaves' that is about Legolas' childhood. I do not own LOTR, though the plotline here belongs to me as does the OCs. :)


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